


True Scotsman

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Blow Jobs, F/M, Kilts, NSFW, PWP, Rumbelle - Freeform, Smut, talking dirty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Belle and Gold absent themselves from Bae and Emma’s wedding celebrations to enjoy themselves in private.Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “I’m not wearing any underwear.”





	True Scotsman

 

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

“I know, dear.” Belle reached down and patted her husband’s sporran. “I was there when you got dressed this morning, or have you had so much champagne that you’ve forgotten?”

Cameron just gave her a look. “I’m not that far gone. I was simply reminding you of the fact in case you wanted to escape.”

“I’m having fun, Cam!”

“Yes. I am too.” Cameron pulled her in closer to his side and they continued to watch the party in full swing. They were the only people left at the top table; everyone else was dancing, but Cameron’s ankle was protesting so he was sitting it out and Belle was keeping him company, despite him telling her on several occasions that she ought to go and enjoy herself.

It had been a wonderful day. Everything had gone according to plan, and now Bae and Emma were married and swaying happily in the centre of the dancefloor, oblivious to the other guests around them. There had been ups and downs throughout the engagement, with both bride and groom getting panicked cold feet, but everything had come good in the end. And, of course, as a crowning glory, her husband was wearing his kilt, which only ever got an airing on very special occasions.

Belle slipped her hand down onto his thigh, squeezing gently, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to escape?” he asked lightly. “I really don’t think that anyone would notice if we were to absent ourselves for a while.”

Belle moved her hand a little further up his thigh.

“It _is_ tempting,” she admitted. “You know how delectable you look in your kilt.”

“I’ve never been entirely convinced of it myself, so I’m very glad that you think so.”

“Oh darling, I know so.” She leaned in close to capture a kiss. “You know, this reminds me of our own wedding.”

“What, us in a corner with our conversation turning increasingly depraved and me being very glad of having a sporran to preserve my dignity? Yes, I do seem to recall a similar occasion.” He grunted as Belle squeezed his thigh again. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to be able to walk out of here with a straight face. Or maybe your aim is to get me so worked up that I just ravish you here under the table?”

Belle laughed. “As tempting as it sounds, I don’t think that Emma and Bae would ever forgive us if we were to debauch their wedding reception in such a way.”

“I’m sure that plenty of other people are also entertaining the notion.”

“Yes, but as the father and stepmother of the groom, we should uphold a bit of decorum.”

“And you groping me constitutes upholding decorum? I dread to think what would happen if you were to let your hair down.”

“Oh, you know what would happen.” Belle leaned in closer and purred in his ear. “I’d be under that kilt faster than you can say tartan.”

Cameron firmly removed her hand from his thigh and pulled her in close for another kiss. For a while they continued to watch the party, and Belle thought that perhaps he was trying to rein them both in and be respectable. Then his low voice whispered in a soft growl.

“So, shall we go somewhere private and absolutely not uphold decorum?”

Belle nodded, and together they made their way out of the reception room. If anyone noticed them leave, then they didn’t say anything, and the party continued uninterrupted.

It was only a short walk back to their hotel room, and Belle was already feeling the anticipation. As soon as they were inside, she turned to Cameron, pushing him back against the door and running her hands down his chest.

“I do love it when you get dressed up,” she said. “And I really do appreciate the ease of access.”

She reached down to palm him through the heavy fabric; it was too thick for any finesse, but she could feel him hard and eager. Belle sank down onto her knees and lifted the hem of the kilt to duck underneath it, finding Cameron’s cock and stroking him gently a couple of times. He groaned above her, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the shiny wooden door. Belle just grinned to herself, closing her lips around the head of his cock and swirling her tongue over the tip. She always enjoyed the way that he turned into jelly when she went down on him like this, surrendering to her in the most wonderful way. She licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, so hot and throbbing, and when she took him back in her mouth, the first drops of earthy salt bloomed on her tongue.

“Oh, Belle, you’re something else, do you know that? You’re a goddess.”

Belle wasn’t sure if there was a goddess of blow jobs, but she was happy to begin a new sexual pantheon if needed. She kept lapping at the sensitive tip, alternating firm strokes up and down his shaft and gently squeezing his balls. Cameron’s compliments had turned slushy and foul-mouthed, and she knew he was nearing the edge. Anyone walking down the corridor outside their room would certainly get a fright.

“Belle!”

She drank him down as he came hard, his cock quivering between her lips. When she finally let him go and ducked back out from under his kilt, he was breathing like he’d just run a marathon, his hair mussed and his face very pink.

“I’d return the favour,” he said, “but if I get on the floor my ankle won’t let me get up again.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t mind having you on your knees all evening.” Belle got back to her feet and licked her lips before kissing him again, giving him a little taste of his own pleasure. “But there are other ways to absolutely not uphold decorum.”

“The only thing you’ll be holding up is your skirt,” Cameron growled, beginning to pull it up and bunch it at her hips. He pushed her panties down and cupped her mound, fingers dipping into her cleft where she was already practically dripping for him.

“So warm and wet,” he murmured. “And all for me.”

Belle stepped out of her panties and lifted one leg, leaning against Cameron and the door to open her up.

“It’s the kilt,” she gasped as he rubbed his thumb over her clit, hard and fast and just the way she liked it. “I’ve been soaking through my panties all day just from looking at you in it.”

“My naughty little wife. I love it when you talk dirty.”

“You do it better. I think it’s the accent.” Belle groaned as he pushed a finger up inside her, clinging to his shoulder with the hand not holding up her skirt.

“I won’t read into that.” He chuckled and twisted to peck a kiss to her cheek where she was pressed in so tightly against him. “Although maybe you should leave your underwear here when we go back to the party. Can’t have you sitting around in wet panties. Besides, like you said earlier, I appreciate the ease of access.”

A second finger joined the first and Belle whimpered with pleasure as they curled in just the right way to hit her sweet spot. The touches to her clit were still relentless and she was building up and up towards that heady peak, Cameron’s voice crooning utterly filthy things in her ear and his fingers doing unspeakably good things between her legs.

When she came, it was with a squeal of pleasure, warmth racing through her veins.

Finally, she regained enough composure to stand on her own two feet again, and Cameron slid his fingers out of her. Normally he would put them in his mouth, and there was always something especially erotic about seeing him licking her essence off his hand, but today he picked up her discarded panties and wiped his fingers on the blue silk before tucking them into his sporran. Belle giggled.

“You’ll cause quite a stir later when you go in there for your phone or something and take out my underwear instead.”

“I’m counting on it. Although…” He looked over at the king-sized bed and its pristine white sheets. “We don’t _have_ to go back to the party.”

“It’s not even our wedding; surely it’s the bride and groom who should be breaking off early to shag like rabbits. Besides, I’ve got plans for that kilt later.” Belle gave him a sultry smile. “You know, you should wear it at home more often. It and nothing else.”

“If today’s performance is anything to go by, we’d never get anything done in that case.”

“Sounds perfect.” Belle went over to their suitcase and took out a clean pair of underwear, heading into the bathroom to freshen up before they went back to the reception. Hopefully no one would have noticed their absence.

On second thoughts, though… She left the panties on the side by the tub. It would give Cameron a nice surprise later, and after all, if he was going commando then there was no reason why she couldn’t too.

They’d make a true Scotswoman of her yet.


End file.
